


We Run

by Gatto the Rogue (OerbaIzalith)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: As realistic as m/m smut can get, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Creampie, Emo Fic Masquerading As Smut, M/M, No Strings Attached, Porn With Plot, Size Kink, Smut, Top Derek Hale, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OerbaIzalith/pseuds/Gatto%20the%20Rogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is the only one of his high school friends that hasn't left Beacon Hills. Now the only way he can feel anything at all is by having rough, casual sex with Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Run

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. This does have a pretty nasty bite to it. I write this as 100% accurate sex which can and does happen between two guys every day. If you'd rather read about knots and what(k)nots, look elsewhere. Oh, and do enjoy.

5am and Stiles hadn't slept a wink. His father had gotten used to this after a few weeks, though he still occasionally came knocking, telling him to get to sleep like a normal person. He couldn't. Stiles had fallen in love with the night. He enjoyed the silence, the way the world stood still and went to sleep. He felt like he was the only person on planet earth, and he enjoyed this, though he had no idea why. Daytime was too busy, noisy, fast. He would rather sleep through it.

He had graduated from high school 2 months ago, and had pushed against going to university. He knew himself, knew that studies would never take priority in his life and thus would be a waste of his dad's hard earned money.

Not that he even knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. Even if he did go to university, he had absolutely no idea what his field of study would be.

He missed Scott. Missed Lydia, Kira and even Liam. The gang had splintered, each leaving Beacon Hills to find their own future. That's life, Stiles kept reminding himself, but inside he was broken. They had left, they had left him behind. They were all somewhere out there in the world and none of them were looking back. They were all gone.

All except for Derek.

He kept checking his phone, checking to see when last he was online. 21:38.

It must have been telepathy. 21:38 turned to 'online'.

'Hey.' He typed lightning fast and sent it to Derek.

'What u doin'

'Just home, in bed. U?'

'Same is ur dad there'

'No he's working night shift.'

'Can I cum over'

'Sure. Give me 5.'

Stiles got up and checked his dad's room to be sure he was still at work. He was. A quick trip to the bathroom was standard to check if he was clean and ready, though he usually was. He returned to his room and fished out the lube from his desk drawer, tensing at how cold it was on his fingertips, especially during this winter night. He pulled his trackpants down just far enough to expose his ass, dipping his fingers into the crack and smearing the lube over his opening. Fingering himself open while spreading the lube, the question popped into his mind again. Why didn't he get the same pleasure from this as when Derek's cock was in him? Why did he need him to feel good? He wasn't sure that he wanted the answers, so he stopped thinking about it.

He heard the dogs barking down in the street and he removed his fingers, pulling his pants back up. Derek knocked on his window a few seconds later, and Stiles opened it and let him in.

"You smell good." He said, voice shaky with nerves, despite it being their third time. Their first time was somewhat of a shock and it had happened out of nowhere. Stiles had been horny, looking for a hookup on Grindr, when out of the blue, a message from Derek had asked if he could come over. The rest was history.

"Haven't seen you in a while." Stiles said warmly, having not seen him in 2 weeks.

"You know what they say about good things, they're hard to come by." Derek smiled shyly.

"Evidently." Stiles had been looking forward to getting fucked by him again for a very long time.

"You want some coffee?" He offered, pointing toward the door.

"No thanks, I'm good."

"Water? Soda?"

"You have any beer?"

"Bit early to be drinkin', but sure. I'll be right back."

Stiles went downstairs and fetched him a beer, hurrying back to the room, finding him laying down on the bed as if it was his own. This didn't bother Stiles in the slightest, in fact, it had quite the opposite effect.

"You really know how to make yourself at home." He feigned annoyance at the man on his bed and handed him the beer as he sat down on the bed next to him.

"So what have you been up to?" Derek asked, taking a big swig from the bottle. Stiles didn't have to think hard about it to realize that he was calming his nerves with the alcohol.

"Not much, got a job as a waiter. It pays better than I thought. What about you? What's new?" Stiles wanted desperately to cut the chatter and get down to it but he also didn't want to force the mood. Instead he moved his body closer to where Derek had his head propped up on the pillows, the hand that wasn't holding the beer idly resting behind his head. Stiles marveled at the little bit of skin visible beneath where his shirt lifted above his belt. Just a hint of those delicious abs peeking out at him, arousing him.

"Construction all the way. Actually have to be at work in 2 hours." Derek said, perhaps with a hint of apology Stiles detected in his words.

"That's okay. So uh... You just gonna lay there?" He asked teasingly.

"I'm just waiting for you." Derek smiled and then Stiles did too.

"You're very passive for a top." He noted, skirting his hand beneath Derek's shirt, sliding it over the hard muscles of his stomach and Derek in turn ran his hand over Stiles' arm, his fingers ghosting over his flesh and making it rise to the touch.

"I enjoy your attention." Derek's other hand went to his own belt, working it loose and he shrugged his jeans down to just above his knees. He wasn't wearing any underwear and his large, thick erection sprang free of its confines. Stiles loved how big he was. It was a cock worth bragging about, having taken such a big one. But their trysts remained between them, as always. Their hookups were discreet, and they both preferred it that way.

Stiles had that cock in his hand, that beautiful, musky cock. He felt proud that Derek was hard with nothing but anticipation for what they were about to do. They hadn't even kissed yet. It made him feel sexy, wanted.

Crawling up onto the bed, Stiles brought his face up to Derek's groin and placed his cock between his lips, taking just the head into his mouth. Derek smiled and his fingers brushed through Stiles' hair as intense suction made his eyes roll back and his breath hitch. Stiles got better at it every time, learning new tricks, where to press his tongue, how hard to bob his head, just how much pressure his mouth should exert on his dick to make him squirm. 

Derek tasted like a man, earthy and masculine. Stiles had never sucked a cock before his and hadn't since he first did, but he was almost sure not every guy tasted like this. Like salt and sweat and pure want.

He loved watching Derek watching him, hungry eyes staring at him, fingers coiling around his head and pushing him down, silently urging him to take more of it into his mouth, often making him gag and smile, out of breath as he lifted his head back up off of his dick, wiping the excess spit and precum from his lips. He kissed the thick shaft between his lips, his mouth hungrily gnawing at it, pressing it into Derek's stomach and making him gasp.

"Did you miss it?" Derek breathed as Stiles sucked at his hairy balls, breaking to tongue at his shaft some more before moving back down.

"Miss what?" Stiles asked, releasing one of Derek's balls from between his lips with a loud pop.

"My cock."

"Oh yeah." He raised himself back up, taking the cock back into his mouth, sucking his cheeks in around it, careful to not let his teeth graze the flesh. He blew Derek hard and fast, enjoying the groans and feeling those abs twitch beneath his hand. He snaked his hand up, between the crevice between Derek's pectorals, then toward a nipple, hard and erect. Derek didn't need to be asked, instead sitting up and pulling his shirt up and off, exposing his toned chest.

Stiles needed to kiss that chest.

"You haven't showered yet, have you?" Stiles asked as he laid a hundred tender kisses to Derek's abdomen, tasting the saltiness of day-old sweat, starting at his stomach and moving his way up slowly until he reached those nipples, taking turns licking, nipping and sucking them.

Derek's hands were on him, one caressing his back, the other slipping into his trackpants, dipping fingers into his crack and lazily circling his hole. Stiles responded by moving up, kissing Derek's neck and his jaw and then finally, finding his lips in a slow, passionate and messy kiss that made both their cocks twitch. Their tongues danced together in Derek's mouth, and Stiles moaned into the kiss as Derek's index finger breached his outer ring.

Derek held it there, shallowly wiggling his finger, tickling Stiles inside, wringing small heavy breaths from him as he deepened the kiss between them even further, his lips feverishly devouring the older man's.

"You want me inside you?" Derek whispered against his lips, his finger sinking deeper easily. Stiles nodded with his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against Derek's, relieved to finally hear him say it.

"I don't have any condoms." Stiles whispered, already knowing what Derek's answer would be.

"Good."

Grabbing the lube from the floor, Stiles popped the cap and poured a generous amount onto his fingers as Derek stood up from the bed to get his jeans all the way down. Stiles took his cock into his lubed hand, stroking it, slicking it up. They kissed as Stiles worked on his cock. When Derek was good and wet from root to base, Stiles wiped his slick hand on the bed spread, not bothering to go to the bathroom again to fetch a towel.

"On your back?" Derek asked, strong hands kneading Stiles' ass.

Stiles sat back onto the bed, shimmying up a bit and grabbing the pillows to prop them beneath his head. Derek took him by the hips and pulled him towards the edge of the bed so that only his upper half had support. Positioning himself while standing, Stiles feet resting on his chest, Derek looked down and guided his cock toward the waiting orifice.

"Little more up." Stiles laughed softly as Derek pressed forward in the wrong direction, and he felt him reposition, trying again to find the rim.

He knew the moment Derek entered him, it was a distinct feeling, a sharp burning sensation that quickly subsided as his cock slid deeper. Small, shallow thrusts helped him to go as deep as he needed to and Stiles couldn't help but groan at the intrusion.

Pain jolted through him suddenly when he realized that Derek had gone a little too deep. This wouldn't normally be a problem in other circumstances, but the man was hung. 10 inches of man-meat was buried all the way up inside Stiles, and it was a little more than he could handle.

Derek pulled back just a little and the pain was gone. Only the pleasure remained. 

"Not that deep, okay?" He whispered, and Derek gave a grudging nod, thrusting forward again, but only up to 8 inches. Back and forward, he promptly established a fast rhythm. Derek had been a rough fuck from the very first time, not bothering to ease Stiles into it unless he was explicitly asked to and in a way, Stiles appreciated that. Derek taking what he wants how he wanted it got Stiles off, ensuring endless nights of masturbation while thinking back on the way Derek fucked him selfishly, like a man, like any good fuck should be.

Stiles moaned, feeling the familiar quickening of the pace, the sound of Derek's groin slapping into his ass repeatedly, the grunts from above as the man looked upon him, eyes never leaving his face except when they were rolling back ever so often at the intense stimulation of his big dick by Stiles' anal walls, hugging him tight. 

Stiles attempted to contract his inner muscles to cause extra friction but Derek was hammering into him too hard, too fast for him to have any control over anything, including the cries of pleasure that flew from his lips and mixed with his lover's in glorious harmony. The nerve endings inside of him were on fire with each drag of Derek's cock into and out of him and the brutality of it made it hard for him to breathe. He wanted to beg Derek to slow down but he knew that he would be lying to himself if he claimed that he didn't love every single second of getting rammed like a piece of meat.

Derek knelt down on top of him, hips still pistoning feverishly and kissed Stiles, their lips grazing and unable to lock due to the forceful motion of their bodies. Stiles had his hands on Derek's forearms, his palms running over the fine hairs there and his fingers clamped down in an attempt to keep his own body from being pushed further up onto the bed.

Derek slipped out by accident, and took the opportunity to lift Stiles and turn them toward the wall, where he pressed his younger lover against it and entered him again. He couldn't quite slam into Stiles like he did just seconds ago, the position of his legs around Derek's back and the effort of holding his body up in the air made it difficult, but feeling the press of their chests together and Stiles clinging to Derek's shoulders for dear life clearly got him off as Stiles felt his thrusts become erratic, uneven and his breaths came out in short, quick pants.

"You gonna cum?" Stiles could barely breathe the words as he was rutted into the wall repeatedly, the cold surface at his back not so cold anymore after so much friction.

Derek nodded, his mouth open but unable to speak through the pleasure engulfing him and his brow locked in an exerted frown, panting more harshly, louder. Stiles memorized his face, the sounds he made, all to be recalled later when he would jerk off thinking back to this moment. To Stiles, there was nothing that could turn him on quite as much as watching Derek getting close to the edge, knowing it was because of him, he was going to make Derek cum.

Derek slammed hard into him, his thrusts fast, briefly stopping, fast again, slow, fast, stopping, slow, fast. Then came that groan, a groan that could easily be mistaken for pain if he wasn't balls deep inside of Stiles and cumming, cumming and cumming. His body quaked and Stiles felt his cock pulsing, shooting an enormous load deep into his ass.

The sight, sound and feeling of Derek's climax sent Stiles over the edge in an instant, his ass contracting around the still-spurting Derek and his own white fluid shot up and covered his chest and stomach as they twitched and spasmed together, their groans not so harmonious this time.

Derek turned them back around and fell down onto the bed, careful not to crush Stiles beneath him, and they lay there in post-orgasmic bliss, breathing heavily, Stiles feeling Derek's cock still within him, not going down. He slid out a few seconds later, some of his cum dribbling out with the pull-out, but Stiles clenched, minding the sheets on his bed.

Knowing the established rules they had set from the last time, Derek proceeded to the bathroom sink and turned open the tap and leaned over it, washing the mixed smell of Stiles' anal fluids and his cum off of his semi-erect cock. 

Stiles, meanwhile, got up from his bed, nearly unable to stand like every other time he had been fucked by Derek, knees shaking like a newborn fawn. He made his way slowly through the hallway, clenching all the way, careful of more of Derek's cum spilling out and onto the carpets. He reached the bathroom just as Derek was using the spare hand towel to dry his cock.

"That was awesome, as always." Stiles said, leaning against the wall to take some of the weight off his knees.

"Yeah, it was." Derek said casually, bunching the towel up and tossing it into the laundry basket.

"Wish we could go again." He looked at Derek's semi-stiffy, knowing that it had at least another round in it.

"Yeah, if I didn't have to go to work, maybe... Who knows." He shrugged and walked past Stiles back to the bedroom where he picked his clothes up and got dressed, checking his phone for the time. 6:30. He had to be at work in 20 minutes.

Stiles walked him to the window, sleep depravation finally catching up to him and he yawned.

"Thanks. It was nice." Derek said quietly, and Stiles nodded. Then he was out the window and out of sight.

Stiles stood there for a while, the dull ache in his ass evidence of the hard pounding he had taken but a couple of minutes ago. He walked to the bathroom, legs still shaking as a testament to Derek's talent as a lover.

He sat down on the toilet, and pushed, feeling the thick trickle of Derek's jizz flowing steadily out of him and into the water below.

These were the worst moments, after the sex, Stiles felt incredibly bad. He felt ashamed, like some dirty slut that needs to be used for pleasure in order to feel something. He was a good person, he had a heart. He missed his friends, he missed the old days when things were still simple, when he didn't feel this empty.

Why did Derek make him feel so used? So unloved? Better yet, why does he let himself be used and be unloved?

The first time after they fucked, Derek had asked him to be his boyfriend. It was right after Scott left, and Stiles felt betrayed by his best friend, abandoned and forgotten he was. He never wanted to feel that way, never wanted someone to be able to hurt him so much ever again. So he rejected Derek. Made sure he understood that he meant nothing to Stiles and never would, though in hindsight, he did, and always has. Stiles had been crushing on Derek ever since they met, but when they finally hooked up, it was too late. Derek had been sad about getting shot down, but he did return for another fuck. And again this night. Despite the sex being empty and meaningless, he came back.

Perhaps Derek himself couldn't let go of what might have been, in a time gone by. A more innocent time, when they could have been happy and in love and a couple Hollywood could only dream about. Now...

Now they were nothing but massochists.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. Make my day.


End file.
